Hospital Flowers
by isobeljones2000
Summary: '"Flowers," Katherine notes, tilting her head slightly to reveal her surprise. She's not sure she's ever received flowers before. "Rebecca figured you would like them," explains Nick. "That and a friendly face to wake up to."' A fic detailing my theory as to Katherine's recovery after the Series 2 finale. (Nick/Katherine)


_A/N) This is an amalgamation of two different fic ideas I had back when Series 2 had just finished and never got around to writing. Since Series 3 airs tomorrow (Yay!) I figured I'd better get it down on paper. This is my theory as to what happened after the explosion at Calimov. Enjoy!_

 _The title for this comes from an Owl City song with the same name ;)_

* * *

Nick doesn't know when it first hits him.

One minute he's making his way out of the technologically dead underground base that used to be Mary's secret hideout, laughing and chatting along with his family, half giddy with relief and the knowledge that they're all still safe, despite everything that's happened today. The next, they're all piled into the car and he's driving, mind blank apart from one burning question that refuses to lie down and be ignored.

 _Did the bombs go off at Calimov?_

The answer is fairly self-explanatory once they pull into the familiar carpark and Nick feels his heart thud to the bottom of his stomach. Black smoke billows from the leftmost section of Calimov's top floor - where his department is located. Where Katherine's office is.

He finds his voice is oddly hollow as he pushes the car keys into a questioning Rebecca's hand, ignoring Will's clamour to come with him, smiling at a fearful-looking Eve at an attempt in weak reassurance. After watching his family drive away - promising Rebecca that he will call as soon as he knows anything - Nick turns and half-sprints towards the clustering of police cars and ambulances around the entrance. By the looks of the scurrying of medical teams through into the darkened lobby and various policemen standing talking quickly and urgently into radio mics, while two unroll police tape from a long reel to cut the doors off from public access - they haven't been there long.

Nick wastes no time in making his way around a group of doctors carrying stretchers and first aid kits through into the foyer, his subtle entrance going unnoticed in all the chaos as the marketing department is loudly evacuated from their ground floor offices off to the left. There doesn't seem to be much smoke down here, but Nick coughs as he runs up the staircase, the first acrid taste of combined chemical and soot mingling in the back of his already dry throat as he reaches the third floor.

The corridor here that leads to his workspace is murky with grey-black fog. Nick follows the sound of muted shouting, the smoke getting thicker all the time as he finally reaches the door at the end, one mission still forefront in his mind.

 _Find her._

The room is full to bursting with police and medics; one team is treating one of Nick's dazed-looking colleagues by Nick's usual desk while a couple of policewomen question another of his workmates, scribbling notes down on a lined notepad. Nick ignores this, searching the packed room with his eyes, his mind racing. _Where is Katherine?_

Her office is obscured by thick grey smoke, the usually translucent glass not giving away any signs of life inside. The door to it is closed and another group of harried police officers are standing near it, running a toxic chemical test on the air inside, by the looks of it. Nick forces his way past the crowds of officials, his only intent to reach the door. until a hand closes on his arm.

"Excuse me, sir? Who are you?" The policeman facing him is younger than him and speaks kindly, but sternly.

"I work here," replies Nick shortly. "Katherine Calvin - where is she?"

The officer looks around, scans the room just as Nick has already done, as if she's just going to appear with that cool smile and one of her usual snide comments behind them. "We don't know where Dr Calvin is," he admits, casting a nervous look back at the locked room next to them, his evident suspicions going unconfirmed, although it is fairly obvious where the policeman guesses her to be. "But -"

His eyes widen as the scientist moves obstinately forward, taking his Calimov pass from his dirt-stained lanyard hanging around his neck and moving to the scanner that will unlock the door. "Sir, we can't go in there yet! We don't know whether it's safe, the toxicity test hasn't -"

Nick turns to meet the young police officer's concerned eyes with his own: worry and determination etched into the age-old frown on his face. "She's in there," he says simply, and whips his work ID card past the scanner. Mercifully, the basic door functioning doesn't seem to have been disabled by the powerful blast, and a dim green LED flickers to life to signify the unlocking of the door. Nick hears and disregards several alarmed cries as people realise what he's doing, and steps inside the clouded room, the door shutting firmly behind him.

It's difficult to see anything through the thick smoke that still swirls lethargically through the room, but Nick blinks several times, his eyes already streaming, to try and make out features of the office to get his bearings. The wall tiles are blackened in places, and a window is cracked, with glass shards littering the space next to the window. Nick nearly trips over the prone body of Lord Hoffman, dead or just unconscious, he doesn't know or particularly care. He can't see Mary anywhere, but then he can't really see much beyond the tip of his own nose at this point, so that's not much of a revelation.

Coughing violently, pressing the material of his jumper against his nose and mouth, Nick finally finds what he's looking for, and stumbles towards the other side of the office, fighting the drowsiness that threatens to overcome his vision.

Katherine's battered body is lying tangled in the remains of her desk. Her computer lies, cracked and evidently disabled next to her. Nick swiftly crouches down next to her, panic pulling politely at the edge of his mind. _Oh, please. Please don't be dead._

The woman's face is half covered in rapidly drying blood, and there's bruising already beginning to show along her arms where her jacket has ripped, along with dozens of tiny lacerations from what Nick guesses is a result of the explosion debris. One of her ankles is splayed awkwardly to the side and - although Nick's no medic - he guesses it could be sprained. He presses a finger to her wrist, silently begging for a flicker of life.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Then - suddenly a weak pulse makes itself known distinctively under Nick's hand, followed by another.

She's alive, at least.

Nick could have cried.

"Katherine?" he asks softly, hopefully, desperately wishing for a confirmation as he gently shakes her, unwilling to hurt her further. The battle's not over yet, after all. He still has to get her out of this.

After what seems like an eternity - though it could have only realistically been a few seconds - the unconscious woman finally shifts in sleep, moaning under her breath. Her eyes flutter open slightly and Katherine coughs, the grating sound harsh in the smoke-filled office. "Ni... Nick?" she inquires weakly.

"Paramedics!" yells a voice behind him, overly loud in the muted room, and Nick is pushed aside by four hi-vis jacketed men who had apparently now decided that Nick hadn't suffocated just yet so it must be reasonably safe enough. They move immediately to the wreckage of the desk that the woman lies under and begin to pull it away from her faintly shifting body. It's not long before the desk is effectively removed and a medic scoops the small body of Katherine up in his arms, turning and heading straight away for the door, barking instructions as he goes. In a daze, Nick follows, steering around another couple of doctors crouched on the floor next to Lord Hoffman, obviously checking for his pulse. He's fairly sure he sees one look up and shake his head once, but his eyes are only on Katherine as Nick finds himself back in the main work area, the smoke clearing slightly around him as he follows the group of hurrying doctors through the busy room.

"We need an ambulance headed directly to St Jerome's Hospital," orders the man who had been carrying Katherine, into a radio mic, watching as two more doctors lift her onto a waiting stretcher. His gaze shifts to a worried-looking Nick, his hard grey eyes softening slightly as he takes in the fear on the scientist's face. "You know Dr Calvin?"

"Yes," Nick replies simply, his throat aching with the effort of speaking even the single word.

The doctor gestures with an incline of his head after the moving stretcher. "You go with her, then. She'll need a friendly face when she wakes up from all this, after all."

Nick nods and follows the stretcher from the busy room, overwhelming relief filling his head. He hadn't been too late. Katherine's going to be okay, even after surviving a bombing.

He's not sure he could bear the guilt of having left her in the first place if she had died.

* * *

Life comes back to you in a blast of cold air and bright white light, it seems.

Katherine blinks. She's suddenly awake, alert, _alive_ , although drowsiness politely suggests its presence at the edge of her vision. She doesn't know where she is. But it's not the burning wreckage of what was once her office; that's a clear start. The ceiling that she's staring at is a pristine white and the sheets she lies under are of an identical shade. Her whole body aches - like it's been run over by a steamroller. Katherine moves a hand experimentally underneath the thin covers, wiggling her fingers at an imaginary friend. Definitely alive, then.

Within seconds, vivid memories begin to make their way back to her mind. Katherine winces as the experience of the explosion makes itself known - a bright white light overloads her retinas; there's only a dull ringing in her ears; she's falling backwards as shockwaves seem to pulse from every direction, the walls her enemy; she's lying in the remains of what was once her desk as she rapidly loses consciousness. She remembers that instinctive, animal fear she had felt as she lay there, dying. Had she been dying? She had not been able to tell at the time. Apparently not, now when presented with this new reality.

Katherine closes her eyes for a moment, trying to escape the flashbacks.

Upon further inspection, when she next opens her eyes, she's not alone in the bright white room. Nick sits in the corner, hunched in what looks like a rather uncomfortable plaid-patterned armchair, with a mug of coffee resting on the stained side table beside him and a book open in his hands as he reads it silently. Why is he here?

"Nick?" her mouth decides to inquire, curiosity apparently proving far too much for it to handle.

Nick's eyes shoot up to meet hers, the forgotten book dropping from his hands onto his lap. "Katherine! You're awake!"

The relief in his voice confuses her, so she's left staring at him dully for a moment as she tries to decipher his tone. "You don't say," she responds cuttingly, unable to think of anything else.

Nick has to smile; Katherine's usual sarcasm apparently hasn't deserted her even in this situation.

"How long have I been out?" Katherine wants to know immediately, deciding facts are the best way to reaffirm her situation for now.

Nick evidently calculates. "About - three days, now, I think."

"Three days!" Katherine repeats in surprise, testing the words against her dry tongue. "If I've slept for three days, why do I still feel so tired?"

"Shock, probably," replies her co-worker wisely. "I believe surviving a bombing takes rather a lot of recuperating, believe it or not. That and the fact that I think they've got you on some kind of painkiller, so that's probably going to add to the drowsy effect."

As if on cue, Katherine yawns. "No kidding," she agrees, blinking furiously so she doesn't slip back into sleep, though it is unbelievably tempting.

"Don't feel the need to stay awake because of me," Nick offers. "You need the rest."

Katherine furrows her brow, the effort hurting her already sore forehead. "Wait. You were there, Nick. Weren't you?" she frowns, ignoring his previous assurance and forcing herself to remain focused, although her eyes feel so heavy. Those painkillers are obviously surprisingly strong. Yet more memories drip back into the forefront of her mind, flashes of her last moment in consciousness drifting back to her. "You - you -" She looks up at her co-worker, eyes widening in surprise as she recalls fully. "You - found me. You dragged me from the wreckage."

"The dragging from the wreckage thing wasn't actually me," Nick corrected her somewhat uncomfortably. "I left that to the professionals. But yes - I did find you."

"Why were you there? You teleported - to Mary's base. You saved Will," Katherine states haltingly.

"I remembered," Nick replies simply. "I had to come to rescue you."

 _Thank you, Nick._ That's what she should say, she should get up out of this hospital bed and hug the man who she had never been exactly nice to but had still saved her from a bombsite. But typically, she's too proud for that. Luckily, Nick seems to understand, and settles back in the faded armchair with a contented look on his face. He's always been good at understanding.

Instead, Katherine decides she's sufficiently awake by now to attempt moving various parts of her body, to assess the damage. There's no mirror in the room, so she doesn't know what state her face is in, and there's no sign of her phone so she can't use it to check. Small cuts of varying sizes are already half-healed up and down her arms, which are decorated with impressive looking bruises glowing blue and purple. Her left ankle seems oddly clunky; when she tries to manoeuvre it a sharp pain strikes up her calf and she winces. That's injured, then.

Nick reads her expression. "The doctor said you got off surprisingly well considering you had been in a large bombing. You probably guessed it already - your ankle is lightly sprained and there's some bruising on your arms and shoulders. Nothing too serious, though. You were lucky, considering you're not dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll try and make my next explosion-related injuries more impressive next time, shall I, Nick?" Katherine says sarcastically, giving him a wan smile to show him she's joking. "What about Mary - and Lord Hoffman?"

Nick simply shakes his head, no words required.

"Oh." There had been no love lost between her and Mary Douglas, after all, and Lord Hoffman had been trying to take down her company and her job, so Katherine wasn't really sure how to respond to the news of their apparent demise. Glad might be the wrong word, but she's not about to go mourning for them any time soon either.

Luckily, Nick seems to read that too, and deftly changes the topic. "Look," he gestures, looking somewhat embarrassed as he points something out. Katherine follows his gaze to the end of her hospital bed, and sees a bunch of slightly wilting orchids sitting there in a purple-patterned vase.

"Flowers," Katherine notes, tilting her head slightly to reveal her surprise. She's not sure she's ever received flowers before.

"Rebecca figured you would like them," explains Nick. "That and a friendly face to wake up to."

"Yes, um -" Katherine tries to disregard the 'Rebecca' comment and studies Nick's face, his usual awkward smile back and present on his features. "How long have you been here, Nick?"

"Well, I've been home in the meantime, of course," he replies, visibly hesitating before he actually responds to the question. "But - um - for nearly three days now."

And for the first time in what feels like forever, while staring at the face of a flushing Nick and half falling back into the mushy abyss of unconsciousness, Katherine finds herself feeling inexplicably happier - even though she's not entirely sure why.

* * *

"She's learning every day." Nick swipes a finger across the screen of the phone, revealing yet another picture of KT. This time the young robot child is staring, evidently transfixed, at bubbles that Will is blowing. It was probably at Eve's request; she had always adored bubbles and wanted to pass that experience onto her adopted sister.

Katherine can't help but smile down at the face of the robot child that she had programmed and spent many waking hours mulling over. Almost like having a real child, she thinks sometimes - it seemed to take about the same amount of time out of her life worrying over her. Nick's the most qualified person she knows at looking after robots - and probably the _only_ qualified person she knows to boot - but when she's alone in the hospital room at night, waiting for sleep to claim her, she sometimes wishes that she was the one showing KT the first experiences of living, just as Nick had already helped to do with Eve.

But even when she finally gets out of hospital, Katherine doubts she will ever be a very motherly figure to KT, not when she's latched herself so firmly onto Eve and Will already.

"How's the rebuilding of Calimov going, then?" Katherine asks a few moments later, once Nick's put his phone away and they are sitting together on the bed in companionable silence. Nick's come every day so far, sometimes only for around twenty minutes after work; on a couple of occasions for over two hours. Katherine doesn't really know where all that time disappears to, when Nick's here. All she knows is that it's suddenly very solitary when he's left and she's sitting alone in her room, pulling irritably at the bandage on her injured ankle or flicking through a book that she cares nothing about.

Nick rolls his eyes. "Katherine, you've asked that about three times since I arrived."

"Oh." Katherine considers this. "Have I?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You need to stop thinking about work," her coworker instructs sternly. "Calimov is doing fine, honest. Just concentrate on getting better."

Katherine sighs; splitting up work and personal life in her head isn't always the easiest task, especially when sitting around for hours with nothing to do. She's not used to that level of inactivity, and Nick had finally relented and brought her a tablet from the office so she could keep up-to-date with life outside the walls of the hospital. Usually there's always some employee to shout at or a robot invasion to take care of back at work. "Yes, Nick," she agrees sullenly nevertheless.

* * *

"He really cares about you, doesn't he?"

Katherine looks sharply up at the nurse who is currently wrapping a fresh bandage around her swollen ankle, after having applied some sort of salve to the bruising on her arms and shoulders, and redressing the cut that arcs across her temple. It's late evening in the hospital, and she's having her usual daily treatment by one of the staff who she had got to vaguely recognise during the last week and a half. The older woman is quite pretty, in her way, with her greying hair swept up into a loose bun and a kindly smile on her face. "What?" she asks, taken somewhat aback by the comment.

The nurse giggles at her patient's bewildered expression. "I said - he must really care about you," she repeats with a friendly smile. "That sleeping man in the corner there, I mean."

Katherine casts a sharp look at Nick, who is indeed fast asleep and gently snoring in the chair in the corner, his head resting on one hand. He looks relaxed like that. Peaceful. "How so?" Katherine inquires.

"Well, y'know. He's been in here every day, asking to see you, and spending quite a lot of time here to boot. And you know, you seem a lot happier when he's around, Dr Calvin."

She gives a casual shrug, guessing that much at least is true. "I don't exactly have visitors queuing at the door to see me," she points out. "I take what I can get."

The nurse takes out a fresh bandage roll, starts methodically unfurling it. "But it's those who do come that count," she notes absently. "Are you two - you know -?"

"Huh? Me and Nick -? Oh no, we're not -" Katherine starts to stutter, annoyed at herself for it. Katherine Calvin doesn't _stutter_. "We're just colleagues. He works at Calimov under me, in the same department that got... bombed."

The nurse nods sympathetically. "You guys must be really close, then, if he comes to visit you this much."

"Close? No, I wouldn't say we're all that close," Katherine disagrees, contemplating that revelation. "At least - I don't think we are."

"Uh huh." The nurse finishes tying off the bandage tightly around Katherine's ankle and stands back slightly, satisfied with her handiwork. "You're healing up nicely, Katherine. That bruising's decreasing already, and your ankle should be ready to walk on soon."

Katherine casts an unconvinced look at the blackening bruises discolouring her usually pristine skin as she rolls down the sleeves of her unflattering hospital outfit. "If you say so."

"I do say so. And -" The woman suddenly leans in close to Katherine, winking and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "If I were you, I'd reconsider who you think you're close to. I think you'd be surprised by exactly how much he does seem to care for you - and you him."

"Huh?" is all Katherine can reply dazedly, unused to receiving advice - especially of this sort.

The nurse beams innocently and sets another box of tablets on Katherine's bedside table, as if she had said nothing at all. "Right, Dr Calvin, remember to keep taking these painkillers every three hours, which should ward off most of the discomfort. See you again tomorrow." She heads over to the corner where Nick is still peacefully sleeping, gently shaking his shoulder. "Mr Clarke?"

Nick's eyes gradually blink open and he coughs awkwardly as he remembers where he is. "Oh - hello," he greets.

"I'm sorry for waking you, but visiting times are nearly over," the nurse apologises. "You're going to have to leave."

He yawns, getting unsteadily to his feet and rubbing his neck ruefully. "Okay. That's fine. Um - see you tomorrow, Katherine?"

"See you tomorrow," Katherine can only echo.

The nurse throws a knowing look and another wink back at Katherine, then follows the retreating Nick from the room, leaving her staring dully after them.

* * *

"The doctors say they're going to be able to discharge me within a couple of days," remarks Katherine as they stroll slowly through the hospital gardens, the woman walking with a slight limp, but not acknowledging it as she effortlessly keeps up with Nick. When Katherine was finally allowed out of bed, Nick had suggested they spend a little time out in the garden each day to start strengthening her ankle again, and Katherine had found herself enjoying the trips out more and more each time. She's still wearing loose grey flats, though; she's not allowed to wear high heels until the bruising goes down completely on her sprained ankle, although she had tried to argue with that particular rule. At least she's back to wearing her usual smart tops and suit trousers; she's not sure if she could bear having to wear that hospital cardigan for another day.

Nick raises both eyebrows. "Is that what you want?"

Katherine fingers the necklace at her throat. "Is what what I want?" she asks somewhat distractedly.

"When you get out, you're going to have to deal with an awful lot of stuff," the scientist points out. "There'll be the court case, of course, and trying to salvage what's left of our robotics project, and suing PRICE for the damage they've done."

"What do you suggest, Nick?" Katherine laughs, a slight edge to her tone. "Stay hiding away in hospital for yet more weeks on end? I wonder how that'll go down with the Board."

"Forget the Board," he argues, a surprising strength to the usually placid scientist's voice. "Have they been trapped in a bombing for the second time in a year? I think that might warrant you some recovery time."

"I've had recovery time. Five months and two days, to be exact. An eternity in the fast-moving tech world."

"I mean mental recovery time." Nick meets her eyes, his own a deep brown and trusting. "A person any weaker than you would still be in pieces after an event like that."

Katherine shrugs lightly, feigning carelessness, although she's secretly been dreading exactly all of Nick's warnings for days. "Lucky for me I'm strong-willed then, I guess. Anyway, what's a CEO for if not picking up the pieces after a major explosion?"

"Are you up to it?"

Katherine shakes her head at Nick. "Ye of little faith," she comments fairly amicably, though there's a serious note in her voice. "I'm going to have to be up to it, aren't I? At least if I want to keep my job."

An exasperated smile drifts over Nick's face like a wandering storm. They've had this conversation before, and neither of them wants it to turn sour, not when thin white clouds scud the ocean-blue sky overhead, the sun illuminating the pretty hospital garden and adding an odd shine to the similarly blue eyes of Katherine across from him. "Who else would want your job at this point?" he quips. "Far too dangerous."

"Fair enough."

Katherine suddenly pauses, scuffing her good foot awkwardly against the gravelly path as she turns to face her coworker-turned-sort-of-friend. No-one would give that amount of time to her when she needed it most, least of all her inerrant family. But Nick had done, and for that she would never understand his motives. "Still, Nick... thanks for being there. Through all of that. I - I needed that, I think."

It's evidently what Nick has been waiting to hear for the last few months. A wide smile breaks out across his features, and after a moment Katherine finds her own face - bruised and aching as it still is - beginning to smile back at him.

The prospect of a full recovery suddenly seems a lot more bright on the horizon.

* * *

 _\- Eve Series 3, here we come!_


End file.
